Matters of the Heart
by Icicle Raindream
Summary: Future!Klaine AU. Matters of the heart come in all forms, and when an emergency calls Kurt home, he must deal as best he can with the help from those around him.
1. Part 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Glee or its characters. I make no profit from this (though it sure was fun to write!).

**Author's Notes**: So this story started as a silly headcanon that I had for Future!Klaine. I honestly had no idea it would grow into this big thing, especially since I had initially set out to write it for the sole purpose of getting it out of my head. It may seem as though there's not much plot, but this fic is really more about the journey Kurt and Blaine have been on and are continuing to experience. Kinda like a drawn-out snapshot of their relationship at one certain point in time.

This will be four parts in total; I will post Parts 1 and 2 at the same time, and Parts 3 and 4 will be posted simultaneously as soon as I put the finishing touches on the ending. :)

**Fic notes**: One thing that is never outright mentioned: Kurt and Blaine's daughter is adopted. She refers to both of them as "Daddy". I tried my best to keep that from being confusing, so hopefully it works! Also, Kurt and Blaine are married.

Overall, this fic is rated M, because there will be a touch of smut in the final part.

All that being said, I really hope you enjoy this! I had a ton of fun living in this world for a while. Please drop me a line if you liked any of this at all! :D

* * *

_You should have seen his face._

Mercedes' voice rung in Blaine's head as he accepted the plastic cup and miniature bottle of water from the flight attendant standing in the aisle beside him.

_He went into his office to answer the phone and didn't come out for half an hour. When I went in to check on him, he looked like he'd just seen a ghost._

Blaine unscrewed the cap on the water and poured half of it into the cup, then reached over to his left, holding it out.

_He just stood there, Blaine. Stood there looking like everything inside him…had just shut off. He didn't even acknowledge my presence._

Kurt hadn't slept a wink the night before.

He'd come home, numb. Looked at Blaine, numb. Let Blaine hold him, numb. And stayed awake all night as Blaine held him some more, curled around his body in their bed, keeping him close even in slumber. At seven a.m. sharp, they were out the door of their upper west side apartment, and two hours later, they boarded a plane headed towards Lima, Ohio.

Blaine handed Kurt the cup of water, which he didn't drink from. Between them, Elizabeth looked up between her two fathers with wide eyes, then slipped her left hand into Kurt's right, gripping his fingers tightly. He grasped back unintentionally hard and held steadfastly until she complained softly of pain. Kurt immediately released her hand, kissing it and offering her the cup of water. She took it and sipped, then handed it back to Blaine, who kissed the top of her head and placed it on the tray that was folded down in front of him.

It was a long flight back to Ohio.

* * *

Kurt was now more than energetic, racing through the parking lot on foot, whipping through the automatic doors of the hospital, and pouncing on the first woman behind the welcome desk with precise questions.

The woman directed them upstairs, to a private waiting room at the end of the hall. She assured them she would make a phone call to announce their arrival, so the doctor could speak with them right away. Kurt took off from the desk towards the elevators without so much as a thank you, with Blaine holding Elizabeth and following quickly behind.

Finn was already in the waiting room, looking solemn. "Thank God you guys are here," he breathed out when he saw them. He stood from his chair.

"Is there any news?" Kurt burst out, coming to a halt in front of him, no thought of any sort of greeting. "What have they told you?"

"Nothing yet," Finn replied, unfazed. "We don't know anything."

"Dammit!" Kurt swore, turning on his heel. "Where's Carole?" he asked then, glancing back at Finn.

Finn settled back down in his chair, crossing his right ankle over his left knee. "She's a little further in," he said, pointing down the hall, at a pair of closed doors. "They have another waiting room through there, but they couldn't let us all in. I was going nuts waiting here by myself."

Blaine sat in the chair next to Finn, Elizabeth in his lap. He patted Finn's shoulder, knowing that in his current state, Kurt wasn't about to make any of them feel better. It wasn't his job to. But Blaine could try to help, at least.

Just then, an extremely young-looking doctor came through the doorway, clad in blue scrubs, her long hair tied back from her face. She had everyone's attention immediately, and Blaine slipped Elizabeth backward into his chair as he stood up and walked over next to Kurt.

"Hello," she addressed them meekly. "I'm Dr. O'Reilly. You're waiting to hear about your father, yes?"

"Yes!" Kurt cried impatiently. "Is he out of surgery?"

"I'm very sorry," the doctor began, and Blaine felt his heart sink at her tone. "There – there was a complication, and his heart stopped during the procedure. We did everything we could, but—"

"What?" Kurt screeched, cutting her off. Blaine grabbed hold of his arm to steady him as he began to flail. "What? No! _No_!"

Dr. O'Reilly watched Kurt with wary eyes, unable to say anything more at the look of unmistakable terror on his face. Suddenly, another doctor appeared, took Dr. O'Reilly's arm, and hissed, "Marilyn! What are you doing?"

She looked at him in confusion. "I'm updating the family!" she hissed back. "What are _you_ doing?"

The doctor ignored her question and focused on Kurt, who was staring at the two of them with owl eyes now, having caught hold of their conversation. "I'm sorry, sir," he said politely. "May I have your father's name, please?"

Kurt looked at him like he was speaking Latin, but he managed to fumble out, "Burt Hummel." He was close to exploding now, his voice shaking with fear. "He had an emergency bypass this morning."

The doctor looked back at him, stricken, then jerked Dr. O'Reilly's arm, forcing her to step back from them. "Your father's in recovery," he said smoothly, in a confident, reassuring tone. "His operation ended about an hour ago. Everything went as expected."

Kurt almost keeled over from shock. His dad had gone from dead to alive in two seconds flat. "Are you sure?" he asked, light-headed. He felt like he wasn't even speaking correctly, like his brain could hear the words but his mouth wasn't forming them right.

"Yes," the doctor said firmly. "I was in the OR myself during the procedure. Your father is still in the PACU, but he'll be moved to the ICU soon."

"When can I see him?"

"As soon as he's stable enough for visitors," the doctor replied kindly with a friendly nod in everyone's direction. "We'll let you know."

Kurt nodded back, overwhelmed, and the two doctors left the waiting room, squabbling over which father belonged to which family in what waiting room, and _how could you possibly screw that up, Marilyn?_ Damn interns.

Kurt looked at Blaine then, who was looking back at him, his hand still wrapped supportively around Kurt's upper arm. They stared at each other for a few seconds, unreadable expressions on both their faces, and then without so much as a warning, Kurt absolutely burst into tears.

Blaine instantly wrapped him up in his arms, holding Kurt flush against his body as the sobs tore viciously through him. Kurt gripped him harshly, his body wracked as he wept, salt water flowing freely from his eyes, dripping down Blaine's neck into the collar of his shirt. Blaine tucked his nose into Kurt's cheek.

"Oh baby, shh," he soothed quietly, his mouth against Kurt's ear, smoothing his hands up Kurt's back. "He's okay. Your dad's going to be okay."

Kurt nodded into Blaine's shoulder to acknowledge that he understood, that what Blaine was telling him was the truth and he knew it. But he continued to cry hard. "I – I thought – " he gasped out, clenching Blaine's shirt between his fingers. "I thought I – was going to lose him. I thought…this was it, this time." His sentence ended in a heart-breaking whimper, and Blaine hugged him impossibly closer.

"He's okay," Blaine repeated in a hushed, calming tone. "And you're going to see him in just a little bit."

Kurt nodded again, his face stuffed into Blaine's shoulder. He squeezed Blaine tighter as a fresh round of tears welled and soaked through Blaine's shirt.

Blaine held Kurt till he cried himself out, waiting until Kurt stepped back from him and swiped a trembling hand across his face, looking sheepish. Blaine smiled lovingly back at him, trying to set him at ease.

"Come on," he said, taking Kurt's hand. "Let's go wash your face."

Kurt nodded silently in agreement, and they turned to the door to find the nearest men's room.

"Daddy?"

Elizabeth's voice was laced with concern, and Blaine turned to her, still holding Kurt's hand. "We'll be right back, sweetie," he assured her. "Stay with Uncle Finn, okay?"

"Okay," she replied uncertainly, then looked up at Finn next to her, who gave her a big grin and slipped his phone out of his pocket to hold towards her.

In the bathroom, Kurt leaned against the lip of the sink while Blaine patted his face with a wet paper towel. He pressed the cool sheet gently over Kurt's forehead, his eyes, and both cheeks until Kurt grabbed his hand, stopping his movements.

Their hands drifted apart, and Kurt just looked at Blaine blankly. Then he reached to run a hand through Blaine's hair, and Blaine leaned forward to kiss him softly.

Then he wet another paper towel and returned to soothing Kurt's puffy face.

* * *

"Mr. Hummel, you can see your father now."

The doctor was back, and this time Kurt took a moment to find out his name and thank him properly.

Dr. Webber shook his hand congenially, offering Kurt a genuine smile. "Unfortunately, we can only do two visitors at a time," he said then, and Kurt nodded in understanding.

"You two go," Blaine spoke up, from where he was attempting to help Finn beat Elizabeth at the game they were playing on Finn's cell phone. "Lizzie and I will stay here."

Kurt looked at Finn, who nodded and stood, leaving his phone with Elizabeth. The two of them followed Dr. Webber out of the room, down the hall towards the closed double doors.

"All right, babycakes," Blaine said then, fixing his attention on his daughter. "It's just you and me now. Wanna keep playing this?" He indicated the game on the phone.

"Nah," Elizabeth said then. "Let's play…Thumb Wars!"

"Okay!" Blaine said, smiling at her. He pulled her into his lap so she was facing him, and they gripped each other's hands, thumbs free. As they began to count – _one, two, three, four…I declare a thumb war_ – Elizabeth suddenly stopped chanting and looked up at Blaine, her blue eyes round. Her hand loosened in his.

"That was…scary," she said in a small voice.

"What was?" Blaine asked with a furrowed brow. He let go of her hand and put his arms around her, cradling her back, their thumb war forgotten.

She took a moment to respond. When she did, her voice was even smaller. "I've never seen Daddy cry like that."

Blaine's stomach flopped at the memory, and he kissed her forehead. "Me neither," he replied honestly. "But you know how close Daddy and Pop-Pop are, right?"

She nodded, her blue eyes still shining in apprehension. "Daddy was worried about him."

Blaine nodded. "Yes, he was."

"And Daddy loves him a whole lot."

Blaine nodded again. "Yes. Just like he loves _you_ a whole lot."

Elizabeth finally smiled up at him. "And you too! He loves you too, Daddy."

Blaine chuckled and nodded a third time. "And me too," he agreed.

* * *

There were four words that ran constantly through Kurt's head the minute he'd dropped the phone.

_Dad. Chest pains. Hospital._

He'd stood frozen behind his desk at work, the receiver lolling on the desktop, cord tangling through his fingers. His vision was clouded, his brain foggy. When the door to his left opened, all he could hear was _Dad. Chest pains. Hospital._

He flashed back to a previous phone conversation, in which his father had been complaining about a diet his general practitioner had recently put him on, something with more fiber and less fat and apparently no flavor at all.

"_Dad_," Kurt remembered saying. "_Didn't I tell you that you needed to take better care of yourself like fifteen some-odd years ago?_"

His father had grumbled good-naturedly in response, and then Mercedes - who had needed his sketches for the latest spread they were designing - had interrupted Kurt, effectively ending their conversation.

"_Talk to you soon, kid_," his dad had said. "_Come out and see us sometime, eh? I need to hang with my little girl._"

Kurt had smiled to himself. They didn't see each other much, but his dad and Elizabeth had been fast friends. "_Soon, I promise_," he'd said, and then they'd hung up.

But this was _not_ the visit he'd had in mind.

* * *

Kurt sat next to him now, holding his hand like he'd done when he was sixteen. Burt looked a little rougher this time, hands a little rougher from too much work in the shop, but the doctors assured Kurt that he wasn't in any pain at the moment. Finn stood on the other side of the bed, his hand on Burt's arm.

They didn't speak, and Burt didn't open his eyes. He rested while his sons kept vigil, and they only left when the nurse regretfully informed them that visiting hours were over.

Finn and Kurt kissed Carole good-bye in the hallway and promised they'd be back in the morning. Carole had somehow strong-armed the staff into letting her stay overnight, so the boys were going back to the house to sleep. They collected Blaine and Elizabeth from the waiting room and set off for home, Finn trailing them on the highway in his own car.

Kurt slumped in the passenger seat, watching Blaine drive. Elizabeth had conked out in her car seat in the back, as she was likely to do. She was six already, but she was a skinny little thing, still not weighing enough to ride in the car without her seat. But she never complained, only smiled when one of them belted her into it, usually asking for a hug or a kiss reward, which they happily granted. She always just went with the flow, and Kurt had never been more grateful for that than right now.

Blaine had one hand on the steering wheel, one hand resting on the gearshift. Kurt watched him, letting his eyes wander over Blaine's features, his unruly dark hair. Even though Kurt had been restless to the point of insanity last night into this morning, he knew he never would have made it through the day without Blaine. There were many days he could remember in the past sixteen years – days of seminars headed by demanding professors, days of aching fingers and pin cushions and disagreements on the correct stitch for a project with his peers, days of working through lunch breaks at his apprenticeship with his brilliant but overbearing boss, so many days he'd had to bid Blaine goodnight via a miserable text message or stolen phone call out in the hall, days of Kurt still presently working his tail off to actually contribute in his own meaningful way to the fashion industry - that Kurt wouldn't have made it through without Blaine on the other side, to greet him when he finally made it home, to urge him to do his best no matter the circumstance, to understand without complaint when he'd had to sleep alone in their bed at night. Blaine was his constant, his ever-steadying force, his rock that unendingly supported him.

"I love you," Kurt said then, his voice barely above a whisper. He reached out and covered Blaine's hand on the gearshift.

Blaine glanced at him, his mouth curling into an adoring smile. He intertwined their fingers, rubbing his thumb affectionately over Kurt's.

"I love you, too," he whispered back.


	2. Part 2

Kurt's bedroom had unfortunately been turned into a sewing-slash-storage room for Carole over the years, so while Finn headed upstairs to bed, Kurt, Blaine, and Elizabeth staked out the living room, tossing their bags on the floor and claiming the pullout couch for sleep. Kurt helped Blaine make the bed up, and the three of them fell into it, Elizabeth already out, sleeping contently between them on the frumpy mattress.

Kurt turned to his left side and cuddled into his daughter, his right hand resting gently over her side. He tried not to think about his father's wrinkled face, or the too-clean smell of the hospital, or the tubes trailing from his father's arm (and _chest_, oh God) to the machines. Instead he forced himself to breathe deeply, reveling in the scent of Lizzie's favorite bubble bath, the strawberry No More Tears shampoo that he had bought for her last week. Eventually, his breathing evened, but before he dropped off into sleep, he felt Blaine's hand threading gently though his hair, his index finger tracing softly over the shell of his ear, his thumb ghosting over Kurt's cheekbone. Blaine settled then, letting a sigh out through his nose, and Kurt walked his right hand out over the mattress and hooked it over the crook of Blaine's arm without opening his eyes.

The three of them slept entwined, the aroma of Lizzie's sweetness and the heat from Blaine's skin lulling Kurt completely into slumber.

* * *

Kurt woke to Lizzie's round, blue eyes staring at him not two inches from his face.

"Morning, sweet pie," he greeted, smiling gently at her and shifting back so he could see her fully.

"Morning, Daddy," she whispered back, her eyes wandering over his face.

Kurt pulled her into a hug, and she buried her face in his chest as he stroked her hair. Then she leaned back and said, very matter-of-factly, "Barbie needs a new shirt."

"She does?" Kurt asked with wide eyes. "What happened to the last one I made her?"

"Um…um…" Elizabeth looked around, avoiding his face. "It got…it got ripped."

"Oh, it ripped, huh?" Kurt replied knowingly. He knew where this conversation was heading.

"Um…yeah," she replied uncertainly, as if she knew this could get her – or someone else - in trouble. "She had a party and uh…her shirt got ripped."

"Let me guess," Kurt said, drawing his voice out. "Daddy was playing with you when this happened?"

"Um…um…"

Blaine groaned from the other side of the bed, apparently awake and eavesdropping on their little exchange. "It wasn't my _fault_," he grunted sourly, but Kurt could hear the laughter woven into his tone. "It was a pretty rockin' party, and Barbie was just enjoying herself."

"Yeah," Elizabeth innocently chimed in. "Barbie was having a great time!"

Kurt turned to his back and laughed, letting the warmth of it bubble through his chest and out into the open air of the living room. This was not the first time one of Barbie's handmade outfits had suffered at the hands of Blaine's inadvertent zeal during playtime. Kurt ran his fingers through his hair, then rolled back toward Lizzie. "Okay, sweet pie," he said. "Barbie will get a new shirt, as soon as I get some new fabrics."

Elizabeth grinned sweetly at him. "Okay! Yay! Thank you, Daddy!"

Kurt kissed her head and laughed even harder when Blaine made a face at him from across the bed.

* * *

"Ugh. I have _nothing_ to wear," Kurt complained. He was hunched over his suitcase on the living room floor, his hair still wet from his recent shower. "Why did you let me pack my own stuff? I didn't bring anything I need."

Blaine pulled his shirt over his head, adjusting it on his shoulders as he looked down at Kurt from where he stood next to the pullout couch. "Baby, you wouldn't let me _near_ your closet that night, remember?"

Kurt stopped rooting through his case and looked up at Blaine, guilt written on his face. Blaine waved his hand dismissively, as if to let Kurt know that his feelings weren't hurt from any action taken two nights previous. Kurt smiled in relief and reached back into the suitcase with one eyebrow raised. "Seriously, though…" He held up a sweater that was three sizes too small, covered in gaudy sequins, and was probably part of a costume from his production of _Pip Pip Hooray_ from back in the day. "What the hell was I _thinking_ the other night?"

Blaine chuckled at the sweater and stooped to kiss Kurt on the head. "I don't think you stopped to think," he said softly. "You just wanted to _get_ here."

A beat of silence passed between them.

"I feel a bit better," Kurt said slowly, looking up at Blaine as his hands wilted down to the case, dropping the sweater back into it. "Now that I've seen him."

Blaine leaned to kiss him again on the head, but Kurt angled his face so the kiss fell on his lips instead. "I'm glad," Blaine said with a small smile.

* * *

Kurt walked into the kitchen and smiled at Finn and Elizabeth, who were finishing their cereal at the table. He walked to the counter to grab the coffee pot, then one-handedly retrieved a mug from the cupboard above his head and filled it to the brim.

"Almost ready?" he asked Finn, setting the pot back into the holder and taking a cautious sip from his mug.

Finn swallowed and his spoon clunked back into his bowl. "Yup. Just gotta put my shoes on." He placed his bowl in the sink and exited the kitchen, thumping up the stairs.

Lizzie looked up at Kurt from the table as Blaine walked into the kitchen, heading towards Kurt and the coffee. "Are you going to see Pop-Pop now?" she asked.

Kurt kissed her head, careful not to spill from his mug. "Yes, baby."

"And you're gonna come with me!" Blaine said to her, ruffling her hair as he filled his own cup. "We're going to go visit some cool places today."

Lizzie's eyes grew wide and she grinned, clearly excited as she took another bite of cereal. Having been raised exclusively in New York, one of her favorite things in the world was sightseeing. The three of them could wander for hours around the city, with Lizzie perched on Blaine's shoulders, asking questions about their surroundings a mile a minute. It was one of their cherished weekend pastimes, when Kurt was afforded free weekends from work.

Finn came back into the kitchen, shoes on, car keys in hand. Kurt gulped down his coffee, placed the mug in the sink, and kissed Blaine and Elizabeth. The two left then, climbing into Finn's car and heading back towards the hospital.

"All right, kiddo," Blaine said, eyeing her with a sparkling smile. "Let's get you dressed and head out!"

* * *

Burt didn't look much better that day, though the doctors kept insisting that he was right on track in his recovery, and still in a minimal amount of pain, considering. Kurt glared at the tubes leading into his father's arms, but when Burt opened his eyes, Kurt smiled sweetly at him and took his hand. Finn took his other one.

No one spoke, and Burt's sons held his hands until his eyes slowly slid closed again.

Finn's phone buzzed in his pocket then, and he pulled it out, stepping outside Burt's door to take the call. Kurt couldn't hear what he was saying, but it sounded as though Finn was stuttering about something, trying to make an excuse but then changing his mind. "I'll be right in," he said loudly then, and Kurt heard him click the phone closed.

"I gotta head back," Finn said, motioning a thumb over his shoulder. "There's an issue at the shop." He hesitated, then said softly, "I promised Burt I'd look after it for him."

Kurt nodded. "It's okay, you go. I'm going to stay with him."

"Okay." Finn turned to leave, but stopped in the doorway. "Hey, Kurt?"

Kurt looked away from his father's hospital gown, where it was sliding down from his clavicles, revealing the top of the gauze bandage that he knew stretched down the length of his chest, partially covering his dad's heart. "Yeah?"

"It's good to see ya, man."

Kurt smiled at his stepbrother. "You too," he said sincerely, and Finn grinned and left.

Carole came into the room then, holding half a sandwich for later and a stack of magazines for now. She handed Kurt half the stack with a wan smile, and then settled next to him to read as he leaned back in his chair with a deflated sigh.

Kurt wanted his dad back.

* * *

It wasn't until after he and Carole had split the half of tuna on toasted rye – which had turned a little soggy, but had done the job of nourishing them – that Blaine called him with an update on their adventures. It had been a mutual decision before showers this morning that neither Burt nor Elizabeth were ready to see each other, and Blaine had relied heavily on Kurt's description of his father's appearance since he hadn't seen him himself. They didn't want Lizzie to be scared at the sight of Burt, so they were waiting to take her to see him until Burt looked a little more...like himself.

She suspected nothing for the time being, however. Blaine wasn't able to get two words in to Kurt over the phone before there was a scuffling sound on the other end of the line, and Elizabeth's tinny voice sounded in Kurt's ear.

"Daddy, Daddy, guess what!" she screeched happily, and Kurt grinned hard, leaning against the wall outside Burt's room.

"What, sweet pie?"

"We visited Daddy's school today!" she shouted. "It was called…um…"

"Dalton Academy," Kurt heard Blaine supply helpfully, his voice sounding somewhat distant yet still nearby.

"Dalton Academy!" she cried with delight. "It was so pretty! It had a big staircase and a harp! Can we get a harp? Can we get a harp so I can play it?"

Kurt grinned even harder at his daughter's obvious joy. "Maybe when you're a little older, we can get one," he said, and Elizabeth squealed in triumph.

Blaine came back on the line then. "How're things?" he asked gently. Kurt could still hear Lizzie's rapid chatter in the background; no doubt Blaine was holding her as they spoke.

"Same," he replied. "Dad's still resting. The doctors are thinking he's going to be out for a while."

"Okay," Blaine said, his tone sympathetic.

"Would you like to come see him?" Kurt asked then, knowing that Blaine had probably been itching to but had held off for his sake.

"Yes," Blaine said immediately. "But only when you're ready."

Kurt shook his head in disbelief, as he'd been right on the money. After sixteen years, they knew each other so well it was almost scary. "Ask Lizzie how she feels about the park," Kurt offered, and when Blaine asked her, another round of squeals echoed over the phone. "I'll take that as a yes," Kurt said, laughing. "Tell her she's got a date with me and the park as soon as you get here."

* * *

Kurt pushed his daughter on the swing, watching as the breeze ruffled her blonde hair, separating the thin tendrils until they curled at the ends. She giggled and turned her face to the sky, where the sun was starting to die down, inching slowly towards the horizon. They stayed like that for another five minutes, Kurt's thoughts on his dad and Blaine and the wonderful sound of his daughter's laughter, until Lizzie dug her feet into the ground and dragged herself to a stop.

"Is Pop-Pop sick?" she asked bluntly, craning her neck to see Kurt, who was standing behind her.

He looked down at her, then scuffed through the dirt to stand in front of her. He kneeled down so they were eye to eye. "He _was_ sick," Kurt said delicately. "But the doctors made him better."

Lizzie looked genuinely confused. "But why can't he come home? Why's he still at the hos—the hosti—"

"Hospital," Kurt filled in gently.

"Hos…pital," she repeated, making sure to pronounce it right.

Kurt ran the back of his hand down her cheek. "He had a big operation," he explained. "On his heart. So he has to stay in the hospital to rest and get better."

Lizzie nodded like she understood, but her eyes still conveyed that the whole situation was confusing for her. "Can I see him?" she asked then.

"Very soon, you can," Kurt told her. "I promise."

"Okay." And she grinned at him, showing off her little white teeth.

* * *

When they got home later that night, Blaine and Finn were already there, and Blaine was setting out plates for dinner. Carole was spending another night in the ICU with Burt (Kurt seriously needed to learn how she managed to do that for a second night in a row), so Blaine had taken a frozen lasagna of hers and heated it up for them all to eat.

After dinner, Kurt mindlessly watched _Matilda_ with Lizzie, his thoughts too preoccupied with his dad and sketches he had forgotten about for work that needed some extra touches to pay any real attention to the movie. He changed Lizzie into her sleepclothes once it ended, then put her down on the pullout couch. She curled up immediately, her little face resting against the pillow, fast asleep.

Kurt wandered through the living room until he came upon the stereo, which was surprisingly still on. The CD player was paused in the middle of a song, and Kurt made sure the volume was turned down low before he hit play, his curiosity piqued.

His own voice hit his ears, and Kurt realized that it was the CD he'd made in high school, when Blaine had borrowed some recording software from a fellow Warbler for his computer and had helped Kurt set a microphone up in his room, and they'd spent the afternoon recording Kurt singing everything from Broadway to the Beatles. It was a Beatles song that played now, filling his mind with memories.

Blaine drifted into the room then, his face a question mark. He listened for a few moments, then locked eyes with Kurt.

"Remember this?" Kurt asked him softly.

"How could I forget?" Blaine replied, just as quietly. "You were singing this when I realized I was in love with you."

Kurt slowly walked towards him, past the bed, and Blaine took his hand. "I thought you realized you loved me at the Lima Bean," he joked.

Blaine pulled him close, putting one arm around Kurt's waist and using the other to hold their hands against his chest, over his heart. "I'm pretty sure I loved you from the moment you told me your name."

Kurt smiled at him, tipping his forehead so it rested against Blaine's. "The feeling was mutual," he whispered, then tilted his face to capture Blaine's mouth with his own.

They stayed there, in the doorway of the living room, the light from the kitchen cascading over their bodies as they swayed together gently, the quiet tones of Kurt's voice and _Blackbird_ washing over them.

Later, in bed, with Lizzie nestled between them, Kurt reached over her, pressing his flat palm against Blaine's chest. After a moment of stillness, Blaine placed his hand over Kurt's, pressing harder so he could feel the thumping beneath their palms. Steady, strong, and always for Kurt.

His heart hadn't belonged to him since they were sixteen.


	3. Part 3

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything of Glee or the characters within the show. No profit was made from this.

**Author's Notes**: So here's part 3! I know I promised to post both 3 and 4 together, but 4 still needs some...tweaking. It shouldn't take me too long to get it the way I want it. :) In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this section of the story!

Thank you to everyone who has favorited this and/or commented thus far. It means a lot to me that you guys are enjoying this. Feedback = love. :) Please don't hesitate to drop me a line! :D

* * *

The next day, Burt was alert and sitting up in bed. The day after that, Burt was alert, sitting up in bed, and talking. The day after _that_, Burt was alert, sitting up in bed, talking, and eating proper food. He was moved from the ICU to a bigger room with windows, and finally, Kurt and Blaine brought Elizabeth to see him.

Kurt grinned through his tears as Elizabeth sat by her Pop-Pop's side, babbling on about Sophie, her best girlfriend back home, and Barbie, who was considering buying a dog if her daddies would get one from the store for her. "He's not a real dog," Lizzie felt compelled to explain to a very patient Pop-Pop. "He's a plastic one that comes in a box." Pop-Pop merely nodded and continued listening while Kurt sat, Blaine standing next to him, and observed their happy reunion.

There was a lull in the cheerful chatter in the room, and Blaine informed Elizabeth gently that Pop-Pop had to rest now, and they should get going. He looked at Kurt to make sure it was all right with him if they left, and Kurt nodded.

"Meet you down at the car?" he asked, and Blaine nodded back. He took hold of Lizzie's hand and she waved to her Pop-Pop and blew him kisses as Carole and Finn walked out into the hallway with them to say good-bye.

Kurt was alone with his dad.

He turned back to him and dragged the chair on the right side of the bed closer to the mattress. He reached out and took his father's hand, curling his fingers around his father's thicker ones, his skin callused from work. Kurt sat quietly while his dad looked at him, his eyes tired around the edges but gleaming with life inside the irises, and abruptly, Kurt scolded him. "You scared the _hell_ out of me."

Burt patted his hand and Kurt caught the glimpse of a smile across his dad's face. "Scared the hell out of _me_," was his dad's reply.

Kurt's tone softened. "You've got to stop doing this," he sighed light-heartedly, and his eyes started to well. He forced a smile, though, and Burt smiled back at him. "I need you, Dad. Blaine needs you. Elizabeth, and Carole, and Finn…we all need you."

Burt took Kurt's hand, encasing it in his firm grip. "I need you guys, too. All of you."

"Promise me you'll take better care of yourself from now on."

"I promise."

"That means taking a break, too, sometimes," Kurt reminded him, keeping the smile on his face. "Guess who told me that once?"

His dad smiled wider. "I told you that, when you first moved to New York." He sighed, turning his head to look at the ceiling. "You and me, kid…we're just a bunch of workaholics. Two peas in a pod."

Kurt sat back in his chair, still holding his dad's hand. "Yup. I guess we are," he agreed solemnly.

Carole and Finn returned from the hallway then, and Kurt leaned over his father to hug him as gently but efficiently as possible, careful not to jar any wires or machines in the process. "Love you, Dad," he said lowly, and Burt responded in kind.

"Love you too, Kurt."

"We'll see you again tomorrow, okay?"

Burt nodded, and Carole beamed at them from the other side of the bed, her arm around Finn. It was starting to feel like it had all been a bad dream, and slowly but surely, they were all waking up to realize that the horror that had felt so real was past, and there was nothing to look forward to but the sunshine of the day and the radiant grins from their entire family.

* * *

When they returned to the house that night, Kurt called Mercedes to check on the progress of their work at the studio. Once she'd gotten the story of Carole's phone call out of him in New York, she'd practically shoved Kurt out the door, making sure he got into a cab that would take him straight to his apartment. He vaguely remembered trying to protest about who would oversee their projects while he was gone, but his argument had no steam behind it and she'd shushed him without even trying. She'd had Blaine on the phone so fast she almost made Kurt dizzy, and their flight had been booked before Kurt's cab had even pulled to a stop at the curb on 76th street. Now she wanted every last bit of information concerning the entire incident, and Kurt outlined every detail of his dad's situation for her. She expressed her enormous relief at Burt's improving condition, and then described every detail of what had gone down at work recently. Everything seemed to be in order for the _Pastiche_ magazine spread they were working on, and the model they had chosen together, Claudia, had already been in to the studio to be fitted in the outfits Kurt had crafted especially for her.

"You should see her," Mercedes gushed. "The evening gown is _gorgeous_ on her. Perfect fit, Kurt, really. The editors are going to be _so_ happy."

Yet another thing to be cheery about. Kurt thanked Mercedes and they hung up soon after, with multiple warnings of 'take care of yourself' from her and an 'I love you' exchange between the both of them, Kurt's return to New York still yet to be determined.

_No rush. Come back when you're ready._ Mercedes had proved over the years to be the best business partner Kurt could have ever asked for, not to mention the most awesomely reliable and loyal friend.

* * *

A week later, Burt was discharged from the hospital, with strict orders for bed rest and an adherence to a precise medication schedule. Burt grumbled under his breath about all the pills, but the medication was temporary until his body healed completely, and Kurt was overjoyed that he was coming home. Carole, being the devoted wife with an added bonus of also being a nurse, swore up and down to the hospital staff that she would take excellent care of Burt (of which they had no disbelief), and away they went.

After dinner that night, a dinner in which everyone basically sat around beaming at each other in between bites of food, Kurt helped Carole settle Burt in his bed upstairs with the TV on low. After the blankets had been thoroughly tucked around all sides of his father, Kurt climbed into the bed next to him, resting on his left side, his head against Carole's pillow. Burt looked at him for a moment – surprised, no doubt, that his grown son had just crawled into bed with him like he was five again – then slowly, he covered Kurt's hand where it rested atop the covers with his own. They lay in silence, the only movement coming from Carole, who quietly tucked a few pieces of dirty laundry into the hamper and then moved discreetly to tidy the belongings on top of her dresser across the room.

"So catch me up," Burt said then, and the lightness of his tone made Kurt smile. "What's going on at that crazy job of yours?"

Kurt smiled harder, moving his free hand up underneath his cheek as he snuggled into Carole's pillow. "It's just gotten crazier," he said fondly, looking at his dad. "There's this relatively small fashion magazine that just started up in New York. They contacted me not too long ago, asking if I would be willing to sit down for an interview, and if I could put together some outfits that I thought really defined my line."

Burt's eyes crinkled in pride at his son. "That's really awesome, Kurt."

"Thanks, Dad," Kurt said sincerely, and at that moment he knew he would always, _always_ need some form of his father's praise in his life. "Of course, I didn't realize at the time that they wanted _me_ to model the clothes."

"And what's wrong with that?" his dad asked. "You did it back when you were younger. I thought you enjoyed that kind of thing."

"Well, it's funny," Kurt replied, his gaze falling to their hands, where they still rested together on the bed. "Ten years ago, I would have been over the moon at an opportunity like that. But now…I guess I've just realized that my line is not about me. The designs are, but the actual clothes are for everyone else. The clothes I make are supposed to be suited to people who are not me, but who want to look just as fabulous." He feigned a haughty grin, signaling that the last part of his statement was only semi-serious.

Carole gave him a curious look from across the room, not from his joke, but because she was trying to understand his point of view. She remained silent, however, letting Kurt have the moment with his dad.

But Kurt jumped to explain quickly, even without her outright asking. "I mean," he piped back up, "our model, Claudia, is a working single mom. She has two kids that play soccer and take ballet lessons and all those things kids do. She's not a size two. Her daily workout is lifting her kids into backseat of the car, or tirelessly pushing them on the swings at the park. She's…for lack of a better word, normal. _Real_."

Burt nodded, content to listen.

"My line is about all those—" Kurt emphasized the next two words, as if he were quoting them, "_average joes_. All those people who are comfortable with who they are and how they look. _That's_ what my line is made to represent." Kurt grinned up at his dad. "So I was able to politely decline modeling the clothes myself, and got the mag to agree to Claudia instead. Mercedes tells me she's a knockout in the outfits we put together. So hopefully it will all go well."

Carole moved to sit on the bed with the two of them, perching on the end by Kurt's feet. Burt patted Kurt's hand, still grinning. "That's fantastic," he said. "You're doing really well for yourself, Kurt."

Kurt overturned his hand and gripped his father's, squeezing it. "Yeah, well…I had help," he admitted. "From everyone in this house. I wouldn't have gone anywhere if I hadn't had all the support."

Carole put her hand on Kurt's ankle and smiled sweetly at him. The three of them remained like that for a moment, saying nothing, just reveling in each other's company.

"Okay, time for sleep for you," Kurt said to his dad, even though it was barely eight o'clock. He got up and moved away from the bed towards the door. He looked back as Carole scooted up the mattress to lay next to Burt and reached to take his hand. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," his parents echoed, and Kurt closed the bedroom door softly behind him.

As he came downstairs, he could hear Finn and Blaine's voices mixing in the living room. He walked in just as Finn was asking if he could take Lizzie out to get ice cream from the new place that had just opened in town.

Blaine looked at Kurt, and for a minute, Kurt was reluctant to let her go – he wanted his family all together in the same place right now – but Finn promised they'd be quick, and she looked so happy at the idea of an ice cream cone that Kurt couldn't say no. Besides, it was sure to be amusing, watching an inexperienced Finn juggle a six-year-old and a runny ice cream cone when they made it back home.

While they were gone, Kurt and Blaine snuggled on the pullout couch, Kurt resting his head against Blaine's chest, Blaine's hand smoothing his hair. Despite his small frame, Blaine was solid beneath him, chest rising and falling evenly, heart thrumming in Kurt's ear, body warm and comforting. Kurt nuzzled him, squeezing Blaine's side, and Blaine dropped a kiss onto his head. They didn't speak, just held each other, taking in one another's breathing, enjoying the light scent of the fabric softener from their clothes, sharing what they wanted to say without the use of words.

Then Finn and Lizzie came home, and Kurt and Blaine sat up in bed. Kurt could only laugh as he took in Finn's bewildered face, and Blaine got off the bed to help Lizzie clean up her cone, which really meant a licking contest between the two of them to see who could fix all the drips the fastest.

Finn flopped on the couch next to Kurt, clearly befuddled. "I don't know how you _do_ it, Kurt," he sighed, glancing down at his fingers, which were sticky with ice cream. He gestured to Lizzie's cone, which was looking better now that Blaine and his immense love for the frozen treat were helping. "That thing started to melt before we'd even _left_ the place."

Kurt just laughed heartily and empathetically clapped him on the back.

* * *

A week past that, Kurt deemed it time for the three of them to return to New York, to home. Burt was doing incredibly well – could move around on his own, and he'd been able to stop taking all but two medications, and Finn was handling the shop with surprising fluidity, especially since it was still buzzing daily with customers. Kurt had helped out a day or two to lighten the load, and Blaine had kept Lizzie entertained despite the fact that they were in Lima, otherwise known as Ohio's own one-horse town. When Kurt had first brought the topic of the three of them leaving up to Burt and Carole one night, they'd both insisted that it was totally fine for him to return home. He and the family were welcome to stay, of course, but he had a job that he'd been neglecting (their word, not Kurt's), and Blaine had summer session classes that were starting soon. So he finally, reluctantly, agreed, and so did Blaine, with the reassurance that Kurt could change his mind at any time and he'd be totally fine with staying even a week or however long more.

Lizzie had been upset, though, because she'd been spending so much quality time with Pop-Pop and had been loving it (and Kurt and Blaine had been loving it, too), but then Blaine reminded her that she was going to art camp in a week, and they had to get ready for that.

"Oh, art camp!" she cried cheerfully. Then she paused. "What's art camp?"

Blaine laughed and said, "It's the place where you're going to paint pictures and play instruments, remember? In the park."

"Oh yeah!" Lizzie cried then, and this time they could tell she really did remember. "I get to play the _chinga-chinga_ thing!"

"The _what_ thing?" Blaine asked her.

"You know, Daddy," she replied. "You shake it, and it goes _chinga-chinga_. Those boys play it at your concerts all the time." She mimed the movement, and suddenly Blaine knew exactly what she was talking about.

"You mean the _tambourine_," he said, and she nodded enthusiastically. She'd seen them at Blaine's showcases at school, where his students would play the pieces of music they'd been working on all semester for the family and friends in attendance.

"I'm excited!" Lizzie declared then. "I get to play the tambourine and the harp! Well, I'll get to play the harp someday…but I get to play the tambourine _now_!" and Blaine laughed and kissed her on the head in affirmation.


	4. Part 4, Final

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing of Glee or its characters. There was no profit made from any of this.

Just a quick warning before I get to my notes, since I only previously mentioned this in the first part: There is a relatively brief but fairly explicit sex scene in this part! Definite M rating for this section!

And now, the notes: Thank you to everyone who has favourited this story - there's been a lot of you, so I wanted to say it directly. :) It means so much to me that this is something you'd consider a favourite of yours. I've had a blast living in this universe and dreaming up scenarios for Klaine, and I'm sad that this is the final part! I hope you enjoy! Please don't hesitate to drop me a review!

(Also, pointless but perhaps entertaining tidbit on this section: If you know Darren's songs well (or AVPS well), one part of a sentence of Kurt's in here might get a certain tune stuck in your head. :P Initially, I didn't write it on purpose, and I was going to change the sentence (because it kept getting the song stuck in my head and then I couldn't concentrate on what I was trying to write, hehe), but I found myself ultimately unable to change it. :P So I apologize if you're compelled to rock out to Darren's music after this because of that. Actually, nah, no apology, 'cause Darren's music is awesome. Rock out! :) But I didn't write that sentence on purpose, I promise! XD Hope you enjoy anyway!)

* * *

A week had passed in New York, and it was Sunday night. Blaine was tinkering around on the piano in the living room of their apartment, working out some melodies for his first class in the morning, and Kurt was in the bathroom with Lizzie, helping her out with her bath. She was starting day camp tomorrow and wanted to make a good first impression, or so she said. Kurt didn't know where she had gotten the idea, but of course, he wasn't against it. She'd needed a bath regardless.

She liked to do the soap and shampoo by herself as much as she could, so Kurt sat back and kept a watchful eye on her, his thoughts swirling around the good-bye that had taken place with his dad, Carole, and Finn back in Lima. It hadn't been a tearful or upsetting event – in fact, it had been quite the opposite. Three weeks ago, Kurt had been fearful that he was going to lose his dad for good, a feeling that he found intensified over the years, something that stayed deep in his gut, ready to cut him when the time came. But when they'd hugged and said good-bye, it was as if Kurt had been vacationing, like Burt had seen him for nothing more than a quick, impromptu stay. Kurt told his dad that he missed him, and Blaine echoed the sentiment, and Burt had hugged them both and assured them he felt the same, but then he was ushering them off towards the car, where Finn was waiting to drive them to the airport, ready to bring them back to their _life_, the life Burt knew Kurt loved. Burt had leaned into the backseat and kissed his granddaughter goodbye, telling her to send him pictures of camp, and she had grinned back and promised she would, even though she had no idea how to do that. Blaine had winked at her and said he'd make sure Pop-Pop got the pictures.

And now they were home.

Elizabeth finished her bath and Kurt helped her dry off, then slipped her into her nightgown and quickly blow-dried her hair. The heat from the dryer made her eyelids droop, and before they'd even brushed her teeth, she was blinking heavily and asking to go to bed.

The tinkering in the living room had long since stopped, and Kurt could hear Blaine puttering around in the kitchen, filling the dishwasher. Kurt scooped Lizzie up and tucked her into bed, singing softly under his breath until she was totally out, then kissing her forehead and pulling her door halfway closed behind him as he left. He went back out to the kitchen.

Blaine was just closing the door to the dishwasher. He smiled at Kurt as he hit a couple buttons to start the wash cycle, then leaned back against the counter as Kurt stopped in front of him.

"She go down okay?"

Kurt nodded, then moved forward to slip his arms around Blaine's waist. Blaine pulled him close, their noses touching, lips centimeters apart. Kurt hummed contentedly and smiled as Blaine cradled his face with his warm hands, thumbs brushing lightly over Kurt's cheeks.

"I love you," Kurt breathed, and Blaine breathed it back, soft and wonderful, slipping his arms to Kurt's shoulders, pulling him closer. "I know I say that a lot," Kurt continued, "because I say it in place of things that I don't tell you."

Blaine pulled back slightly so he could focus on Kurt's face. "What do you mean?"

Kurt's gaze dropped from Blaine's. "You've taken care of me every minute of every day for the last three weeks," he said with subtle admiration, looking back up and locking eyes with Blaine. "You are the most wonderful husband, and such an amazing father. I don't know how I got to be so lucky, in finding you. I'm the luckiest guy I know."

Blaine tugged him closer, one side of his mouth lifted in a loving smile. "Now, that's not true," he said softly, "because _I'm_ the luckiest guy you know. I have _you_."

Kurt smiled and bashfully bit his lip, bringing his hands up to Blaine's face, running his fingers over Blaine's forehead, his nose, and his beautiful lips before Blaine gently shifted them closer to seal their mouths in a warm kiss.

Their lips moved luxuriously together, open-mouthed, tongues darting in and out of each kiss, drawing them out as long as possible as their lips met languidly in the middle. Kurt's hands tangled into the back of Blaine's hair as Blaine locked his arms around Kurt's waist. In this position, their actions quickly snowballed, building from passion and rolling into insistent and needy, and as Blaine broke their kiss to mouth his way determinedly down the inner slope of Kurt's neck, Kurt murmured breathlessly with half-lidded eyes, "Been a long time since we made love."

Blaine nodded against his skin and let out a low noise of desire, lifting his head to hurriedly reconnect their mouths, clutching Kurt through the back of his shirt. "Bedroom?" he asked hopefully between urgent kisses, and Kurt nodded swiftly against his mouth.

* * *

They made love amid whispers and muted tones, bodies slotted securely together, mouths never too far from each other. Kurt clung to Blaine, wrapping his legs around Blaine's thighs, his face buried in Blaine's shoulder, fingers digging into Blaine's skin. Blaine held Kurt from underneath, one arm supporting himself, one arm flat against Kurt's back, his still-slick fingers splayed out against Kurt's shoulder blade, pressed firmly. They found their rhythm easily, Blaine thrusting into Kurt at that perfect angle, making Kurt gasp into his shoulder and shudder with utmost pleasure on every stroke. Blaine breathed shallowly into his ear, moaning his own pleasure, whispering words of love, words of encouragement, words that no one else in the entire world ever got to hear.

With the heated friction from their bodies, Kurt came first, his eyes squeezed shut so tightly he saw stars behind his lids, body convulsing blissfully under Blaine's for an indeterminable amount of time. He continued to spasm with less intensity as he panted through delicious aftershocks with satisfaction. He loosened his grip on Blaine then, right hand gliding down to Blaine's collarbone, leaning up to kiss him as he stilled over Kurt. Gently, Blaine pulled out, and Kurt leaned back against his pillow, slipping his hand down between their bodies to grasp him with knowing fingers. He stroked evenly against the slickness, causing Blaine to bury his face into Kurt's neck with an appreciative groan. Kurt sped his hand up, concentrating the movement underneath the head the way he knew Blaine liked it, as Blaine rocked steadily into his fist. It only took a moment before Blaine came with a series of stuttering, relieved moans, his arm pulling Kurt close up to him until the aftershocks subsided.

Blaine slumped comfortably into Kurt then, breathing hard and kissing him attentively, smoothing his hand over Kurt's forehead as he gazed down at him with soft eyes. Kurt weaseled his hand out from between them, placing it on Blaine's back. They held each other, sharing enamored kisses, until their breathing slowed back to normal. Kurt reached into the first drawer of their nightstand and located the hand towel they kept there for this exact occasion, and they cleaned one another off in relaxed, sated silence. Blaine then moved to stretch out on his stomach next to Kurt, while Kurt remained flat on his back, one hand in Blaine's hair, twisting a renegade curl while Blaine smiled sleepily back at him.

It was dark in their room, tranquil, and Kurt felt mightily at peace for the first time in weeks.

"Remember that time," he began, breaking the silence with a chuckle, "Lizzie almost caught us having sex?"

Blaine groaned into the mattress, covering his face with one hand while the memory came back to him. "Cockblocked by my own daughter," he wailed in mock despair, slapping his hand down next to him.

Kurt laughed again, his eyes trained on the ceiling. It had happened about three years ago, when Lizzie was three years old and still a little unnerved about sleeping alone in her own bed, in her own room. They hadn't heard her slip through their door, which had been closed at the time, but luckily, they had just been getting started. Kurt had been naked underneath Blaine, who had still had his underwear on – thankfully – and the sheet was still halfway up their bodies. When they'd heard Lizzie's frightened voice call out to them in the dark, Blaine had frozen above him immediately, the two of them staring at each other in shock. Quickly, Blaine slipped to the side, allowing Kurt to pull the sheet up over his lower half, and while Lizzie – seemingly oblivious to what she had interrupted – climbed into Kurt's lap on the bed, Blaine slid out and pulled his pajama pants back on as quickly as possible. He returned just in time to hear Lizzie ask Kurt, "Was Daddy hurting you?" in a worried voice.

Kurt had looked back at her, confusion on his face. "Of course not," he'd replied gently. His heart was still pounding from the initial realization that their daughter had _just walked in on them_, and it thumped even harder as he tried to imagine what she must have seen. "Daddy loves me. He would never hurt me." He smoothed her hair comfortingly, hoping to calm himself, hoping his minimal explanation would be enough for her.

It clearly wasn't. "But you were making funny noises—" she began, and Kurt went rigid in front of her, his mouth dry, brain immediately devoid of any sort of coherency. They'd known Lizzie was smart from the get-go, but her powers of observation were practically unheard of for someone her age. Mercifully, Blaine had stepped in right then, easily distracting Lizzie from her own thoughts with a simple question about whether she wanted some water or not.

He'd known her answer would be a yes, so he'd picked her up when he got one from her, balancing her on his hip while he took her to the kitchen for a small glass. His face burned with humiliation as he filled the cup and held it to her mouth so she could drink, her big eyes watching him, unperturbed and utterly clueless as to what had just taken place between the three of them. She snuggled into his chest as they made their way back to her bedroom, and after placing her tiny frame into her bed and singing until she fell back asleep, Blaine had returned to his bedroom to find Kurt's face red as a beet, even redder than his own. After all their years together, and the countless times they'd had sex, they'd thought nothing could embarrass them anymore on this particular subject. But they were still new parents, and they'd found out that night that they were horrifyingly wrong in their assumption that everything concerning them was old-hat. They were in new, uncharted territory, now navigated by a toddler. But after this incident, they were pretty sure nothing else could top it, which probably meant they were safe from now on, which was the only comforting thought that had immediately come out of the whole disaster.

Kurt's eyes sparkled at Blaine through the darkness now, as he shifted to his side to look at him. "There's no parenting handbook for that situation," he mused.

"Not at _all_." Blaine looked thoughtful. "But I think we handled it well."

"Yes, if by 'handled it well' you mean we couldn't look at each other for the rest of the night and halfway through the next day," Kurt said, poking Blaine playfully in the ribs.

"Ugh," Blaine replied shamefully. "Sorry about that. I just…felt icky."

Kurt raised his eyebrow, barely containing his laughter. "I did, too. Talk about a buzzkill."

Blaine started laughing, turning his face into the mattress to muffle the noise. "Why do we have such a crazy life?"

Kurt laughed, too. "Keeps us on our toes, I guess." He moved closer to Blaine, who put his arm around him, palm resting against his lower back. "Keeps us reminded of all the good we have around us."

"Hmm," Blaine replied, stretching his neck for a kiss with a grin that spoke volumes of concurrence.

Kurt cupped Blaine's cheek as the kiss intensified, and he pushed Blaine to his back with renewed fervor, moving to straddle him. He leaned over and kissed Blaine hard. "Come on," he whispered seductively, moving Blaine's hands further up his thighs with a glint in his eye, "you can help me make some more of those funny noises."

And seeing that their six-year-old was now a relatively heavy sleeper and had been content to stay in her own bed during the night these last few years, Blaine grinned devilishly up at him and very willingly complied.

* * *

The next morning, Kurt and Blaine were finishing their scrambled eggs and toast while Lizzie jumped around the living room on front of the TV deliriously singing, "Art camp! Art camp! I'm going to art camp!" with her pigtails bouncing all over the place.

Kurt took their plates to the sink, and as Blaine re-folded a dishtowel over the oven handle, Kurt caught his eye and smiled. "I love you," Kurt said, and his words from last night reverberated in Blaine's mind, causing him to smile effortlessly back. The simple phrase had now taken on another meaning, something deeper that Kurt had always kept locked away inside his heart.

_Wonderful husband. Amazing father_. And they both thought it about the other, indubitably.

"I love you, too," Blaine replied, an adoring expression seeping across his face.

* * *

Later that day, after Lizzie had been dropped off at camp and Blaine had already started teaching his first summer session music theory class, Kurt sat at his desk in the studio, looking over Claudia's photos for the _Pastiche_ spread.

"What'd I tell you?"

Mercedes' voice came from the doorway, and Kurt looked up at her and smiled. "Just gorgeous," he replied, glancing down at the photos again. "When did you say my interview was?"

"Tomorrow, ten a.m.," Mercedes responded, coming to sit in the chair across from his desk. "I wonder what they'll title the article."

Kurt put Claudia's photos back down on his desktop. "Probably just use our tagline," he said. "_A fit for every body_. Which reminds me," he added, looking back up at Mercedes, "I do believe you are due for another photoshoot. I have an idea in mind for a summer wrap-dress collection that will look _incredible_ on you. It'll be selling like hotcakes come August."

Mercedes grinned at him. "You know I'm ready," she said with a sassy flick of hair over her shoulder.

Kurt opened his mouth to reply, but the phone on his desk rang then, and his face went white at the caller ID. Mercedes sat up quickly, watching with eagle eyes as Kurt shakily picked up the phone and squeaked out a hello.

"Hey there, kiddo," Burt's voice rang out jovially. "Couple questions for you."

Kurt blew out a relieved breath, waving to Mercedes in a gesture of _It's fine, I'm fine_. She nodded and got up to give him some privacy, walking to the door and pulling it closed behind her.

"Hi, Dad," Kurt said happily, turning in his chair to face the sun shining in through his window. "What's up?"

"So, a while ago, some kid I know told me to start taking care of myself…"

Kurt grinned internally.

"…so I was wondering if I could snag some of his completely tasteless, borderline _disgusting_ vegetarian recipes so my wife can try her hand at one of 'em. Y'know…'cause I'm really trying to take better care of myself now."

Kurt barked out a laugh and propped his feet up on his desk, leaning back in his chair. "Sure, Dad," he said, his heart feeling light. "Sure, I've got a couple recipes you could try…" _And you might actually like them_, he didn't add.

Kurt spent the next twenty minutes giving his dad some cooking tips to pass to Carole, and reminded him to watch his salt intake. Burt hung up after making sure that either Kurt or Blaine were still going to send him some summer camp pictures of Elizabeth, and the smile stretched wide across Kurt's face long after their conversation ended. It lasted all the way into the afternoon, hanging lazily on the outer edges of his mouth, even as he pinned hemlines and chose crimson over violet and tore an awful sketch in half to toss into the wastebasket. Even as he sipped his half-cold coffee, planned out his next day with Mercedes, and re-took her measurements so he could start on his wrap-dress idea. Then it grew ten-fold when Blaine showed up, his classes finished, Lizzie's day at camp finished, their daughter perched on Blaine's hip as he carried her in. Her face lit up when she saw Kurt, and immediately she was holding out a macaroni necklace that had been haphazardly fingerpainted in smears of blues and purples.

"Oh, look," Kurt crooned as he leaned to kiss the two of them hello. "It's my princess!" He turned to his daughter. "And Lizzie!" And that prompted Blaine to stick his tongue out – actually stick his tongue out at him, like they were sixteen again and Blaine was losing badly at DDR like always – but Kurt just laughed and pressed another kiss to Blaine's lips to mollify him.

"Daddy, Daddy, look," Lizzie was gushing, and Kurt had an eyeful of blue macaroni, which he took gratefully from her and placed around his neck as he praised her artwork. Then Lizzie held something else up in his face, her smile radiant. "Look! It's a polar…a polar…"

Kurt leaned back enough to focus on the object. "A Polaroid," he finished for her. "It's a Polaroid picture."

Lizzie nodded. "Uh-huh! And see what I'm doing in it?"

Kurt could see. "You're playing the tambourine!" he cried, his eyes twinkling at her.

"Uh-huh!" she answered smugly. "Miss Green said I was the best! And I asked her about playing the harp, but she said the harp was too big to bring into the park, but maybe someday, she said, just like you said before, maybe someday I'll be able to play one in front of a bunch of people, and they would clap, and I would bow…oh, and I'd get to wear a pretty dress with flowers in my hair, and you and Daddy would be there, too…"

Kurt looked at Blaine as Lizzie kept rambling happily to herself, and they shared an amused grin, Blaine's hazel eyes shining in the dying sunlight streaming into the studio.

_Crazy life._ The thought came back to the both of them at the same moment. With the quality of the people in their lives, with their hearts so strongly safeguarded by these people who loved them, so cushioned against every unexpected bump or jolt, who wouldn't enjoy every last second of this? Life in this place may have been chaotic, gut-wrenching, and overwhelming at times, but it was also entirely rewarding, amazingly fulfilling, and undeniably complete.


End file.
